


The Crimson Clean Off

by voleuse



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21915730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: I only wanted to be polished, untainted, good as new.Freedom isn't quite as easy as Carmen expected it to be.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The Crimson Clean Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gray Cardinal (Gray_Cardinal)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Cardinal/gifts).



> Set soon after Carmen leaves VILE Island.

i. _a slight distraction from the deep blue_  
For a while, she reveled in this unexpected freedom--the ability to choose what direction she could turn. Well, she had the options of east or southeast, basically, but it was still nice to have options.

Her stomach rumbled, and she let the boat idle while she rummaged around for whatever was edible. (Cookie Booker wasn't one to skimp even on the annual milk run--there was an entire basket of crudites, cheese, and charcuterie hidden in a cooler in the cabin.) Munching on a handful of sugar snap peas, she returned to the helm and revved the engine again.

And that was when she realized she didn't have any place that she could go. She fumbled with her phone, hitting the auto-dial for Player.

"Hey," Player said, sounding like he was talking through a mouthful of pizza. "What's up?"

"I could use a little help," she admitted. "How much do you know about maritime customs in Casablanca?"

ii. _drain my body of tears_  
The boat had been entirely devoid of materials for sleeping; otherwise, she would have spent her first night of freedom sleeping on the sea.

Player, with some exasperation, told her he had booked a room for her at a nearby hotel, and they could figure out her next moves after she had slept for a day or two.

She didn't have any cash for a taxi, but it was a nice night. She found she was eager to walk around on her own, to take in the smells and the textures and the voices she had only ever considered in theory.

By the time she arrived at the designated hotel, it was close to midnight, and she was hungry again. As she entered, however, a concierge strode up to her. "Mademoiselle Sandiego?" he asked.

She blinked. "Uh. Yes?"

"We're so sorry about your lost baggage." He handed her a thick envelope. "Your solicitor wired these funds to you, and we'll have one of our staff take you shopping for necessities in the morning." He smiled, all sympathy. "Or afternoon, if you'd rather."

Carmen snuck a look into the envelope and cleared her throat. "Thank you so much. Afternoon would be great."

"Follow me," the concierge said. As they made their way to the elevator, he asked if he could do anything else for her.

"I'm a little hungry," she said. "If it's possible--"

"There is a menu for room service in your suite," he said. "And your solicitor said to call him if you needed anything else, at all."

Carmen leaned against the elevator's wall for a minute, and when they reached the appropriate floor, the concierge showed her to her suite and departed.

After some tea, a chickpea tagine, and a quick talk with Player, Carmen drew a bath for herself.

And when she slid into the steaming water, scented with roses and almond oil, she allowed herself to finally cry.

iii. _cities and valleys and mountains and all the oceans_  
Gibraltar. Lisbon. Madrid. Milan. 

Ankara. Kiev. Karachi. Jakarta. Shanghai.

Sao Paulo. Rio. Lima. Panama.

Havana. Oaxaca. Austin. Winnipeg. 

Tripoli. Khartoum. Madagascar. Johannesburg.

Reykjavik. Helsinki. Berlin. Jerusalem.

Rome. Tripoli. Kathmandu. Perth.

Galway. Barcelona. Galapagos.

Buenos Aires.

iv. _you still have to unearth_  
Carmen, with all practicality, knew how to do most of the things Player did for her.

In the back room of a used bookshop, she could find a forger with an endless array of passport stamps. Then to a extreme sports start-up, where they were developing a prototype for BASE jumping in temperatures below freezing. A Radio Shack that technically closed two decades ago, where a radio expert with a James Bond fixation tinkered to his heart's content.

A wig shop in an Orthodox neighborhood that sold extensions for all occasions. A cobbler who never looked askance at the number of soles Carmen wore through in the space of a month. 

Kali, a relatively obscure martial art, practiced in a makeshift dojo. A jeweler that specialized in making paste pendants as sparkling as the real thing.

A network of pilots at small commercial airports who asked few questions while delivering on every boast.

Given enough time and an unsurveilled data port, Carmen could handle it all herself. At the end of the day, though, it was nice to know someone out there cared enough to even offer.

v. _without letting myself bleed_  
Carmen drew the curtains back and slid open her balcony door. The night air in Singapore was sweet and heavy, and the in the distance, there were fireworks. She settled into the lounge chair on the balcony, sitting cross-legged as she savored a plate of satay.

Her tablet, which she had set on the metal table next to her, chirped. Carmen reached over one-handed and accepted the call. "Hey, Player," she greeted, before taking another bite of chicken.

"I've decrypted another folder," he said. "I think you're going to like this one." Her email alert chimed, and she toggled over to another window to open the documents provided. For a few minutes, they talked logistics: building blueprints, security details, wire transfers nobody could trace.

As their brainstorming about a possible train heist trailed off, though, Carmen caught Player gulping down an energy drink. "Player," she said, her voice worried. "I can take care of this, you know. You could get some sleep."

Player snorted. "White hat hacker, remember?" Then he broke into a wide yawn. 

Carmen raised an eyebrow, and he scowled in return. 

"I sleep as much as you do, I bet," he noted.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she replied. 

Player shrugged, and his gaze went sideways. "It's nice," he finally said. "Having someone out there. You know. Confirming I did something real."

"Oh." She mulled that over for a minute. "And I like having someone to bounce ideas around with. I mean, someone who won't try to kidnap and drag me back to VILE."

"I guess we're stuck with each other, then," Player decided.

"Guess so." Carmen, somewhat performatively, stretched then rolled her shoulders back. "I'm beat, though. Heading to bed."

"Lies," Player observed without rancor. He saluted her, somewhat inaccurately. "Get some sleep, Red."

"Aye aye," Carmen piped back, and Player was laughing even as he ended the call.

**Author's Note:**

> Title, summary, and headings adapted from Marla Miniano's "[Sea Salt](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/58231/sea-salt)."


End file.
